Bella's Summer Job
by jamc91
Summary: Probably AU. What if, instead of working at Newton Outfitters, Bella had found a job somewhere else? Like...an office? It is an environment rife with opportunities for paper cuts and other accidents.


_(A/N: I've decided that this shall be xxbutterflaii's half-a-year-belated birthday present, because I can't think of anything and she's not exactly helping. So...happy birthday. HAHAHA. Hey, it's my first Twilight fic. Feel special._

_Also, for other readers, please note that I do not own any of the Twilight books and have only read each book once. It may not be completely canon-accurate, but I like to think my memory is pretty good. Also note that this is a parody, which is the excuse I'm hiding behind for any inaccuracies.)_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Bella's Summer Job

And just as suddenly as the battle had begun, it was over. I gasped as blood flowed freely from my wound. I knew I had lost.

---

As part of Edward's campaign to keep me as human and normal as possible, he guilt-tripped me into getting a summer job. He suggested I should go to the Forks job center to see if there were any openings. I hadn't even known there was such a thing.

There was a bulletin board full of notices for job openings. Most of them seemed quite unsuited to me. There was an opening for a hairstylist at the salon - no matter that I'd have to handle scissors and combs and other potentially sharp things, I'd probably mess up the haircut somehow. Another slip of paper announced that the diner was looking for a waitress. Handling multiple glasses and ceramic plates and other breakable objects? Not really my thing.

A notice printed on colorful paper hidden by two other ads said that Newton Outfitters was looking for a sales assistant. That sounded safe enough, even if it meant I'd have to work with Mike. Edward probably wouldn't be too pleased about that, but it served him right for guilt-tripping me out of my free time. I started to reach for the paper, but someone got there before me.

'I'm sorry, dearie, but this opening's just been filled,' said a kindly-looking lady, who I presumed was the receptionist or something. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessica walking out of the center. 'I may be able to help you, though. What kind of job are you looking for?'

'Um,' I said. 'Well, I didn't really have anything specific in mind, but I was thinking, maybe something ... safe.'

She looked puzzled, but she didn't ask. 'Well, let's check the computer, instead of going through all these notices.' I followed her to the counter she usually sat behind, and waited while she tried to find me something.

'What do you think of this? There's an opening for a summer intern at a company called Restoring Dusk. It's mostly clerical work; simple things like scanning, filing, and such.'

'Oh, so it's in an office?'

'Yes. It's right here in Forks, in fact.'

'I never knew we had an office building in Forks.'

'Quite surprising, isn't it? It's like it popped up out of nowhere to be used for a specific purpose by a higher power.'

I thought that was quite insightful of her. 'That sounds fine. I'll take the job. Could you put my name down as Bella Swan instead of Isabella?'

---

'Um, hi,' I said uncertainly to the receptionist. 'I'm Bella Swan. I applied for a summer job here -'

'Bella Swan? Just go right in. Ask for Evelyn.'

'Oh. Thanks.' I went through the polished dark wood door and stopped at the first desk I saw. 'I'm looking for Evelyn?' I asked the woman sitting at the desk.

'I'm Evelyn. You must be Bella,' she said, getting up.

'Oh! Yeah, I mean, yes, I am.'

'Welcome to Restoring Dusk. We're a pretty small company, but there's always something to do around here. Let me give you the tour...'

---

'So that's our office. Any questions?'

'Well, yes ... I was just wondering where the bathroom is, in case I need it later.'

'Oh goodness, I can't believe I forgot that. It's right at the back of the office. Press this button to unlock the door. When you come back in, you have to enter the code, which is K1879. Anything else?'

'No, thank you.'

'Let's put you to work, then.' She led me to an empty desk near hers. 'This will be your desk. It should have everything you need for work here, but if you're missing something, don't hesitate to ask. Give me a second; I'll be right back.' She left, and I examined my new surroundings for the hours of nine to five, Monday to Friday. They seemed quite ordinary. Quite safe. I was satisfied.

Evelyn returned carrying two cardboard boxes and various stationery. 'Now this,' she said, setting them down on my desk, 'is what I want you to do. These boxes have dividers in them -' she opened one for me to see '- and these are labels -' she handed me a clear plastic folder '- and your job is to stick the labels on the dividers, in this order.' She gave me a sheet of paper with a list on it. 'Just follow the list. Which labels go on which color dividers don't matter, just make sure they end up in this order.' She pointed to the sheet. 'Now you'll notice that the labels are not pre-cut, as they are printed on one giant sticker, so you'll have to cut them out. Here's a cutting board, and please try not to damage the desk. When you're done with one set of dividers, clip them together with a paper clip. Come find me when you're done with these two boxes. Got it?'

My head spun, but I nodded. She left, and I eyed the boxes with some trepidation. Carefully, one by one, I took each item of stationery from on top of the boxes and set them on my desk, far away from any edge where I could knock them off. Box of paper clips, cutting board, plastic folder containing labels, sheet of paper with the list -

Something fell to the floor. I sighed and picked it up. It was a retractable knife. I set it on my desk. Something nagged at me in the back of my mind, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

I reached into the box and took out a stack of dividers. I ripped off the plastic, threw it in the bin, and looked at the order the labels should go in. Setting up a stack of eleven dividers, I unsuccessfully tried to peel a label off, accidentally ripping the tiny sticker in half. Then I remembered that I needed to cut them first.

I spent a few seconds getting the remains of the ruined label off my fingers, set the dividers aside, and got the cutting board and the stickers. Holding the retractable knife in my hand, I stared at it for a moment. There was something about it, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

With a click, I slid the knife out of its sheath. Looking at the gleam of the silver metal under the fluorescent lights, I suddenly realized what I was holding.

A retractable _knife_.

I stared at it in horror. Office jobs were supposed to be safe! That was why I'd taken this job in the first place!

No. I couldn't let myself be defeated by a knife. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't even a _real_ knife, anyway. Most of the time it was just a metal thing in a plastic case, which couldn't hurt anyone.

I placed the sheet of labels on the cutting board and, with a shaking hand, brought the knife down to the sticker. Slowly, cautiously, I scored a neat line down one edge of a single label. There. That was one side done. Now for the other three sides.

After what seemed like an hour later, I had cut out the sticker and successfully labeled the divider. I gave myself a pat on the back for a job well done.

I counted the stack. Ten more to go to finish this set. At this rate, it would take me the rest of the day to do it. Perhaps there was a faster way. What if, instead of cutting out individual labels and then sticking them, I cut a lot of them in one go?

That could potentially work. It would probably be a lot faster.

With a slightly steadier hand, I used the knife and a ruler to cut one side of an entire row of stickers without anything untoward happening. Feeling even better, I then confidently sliced down the opposite edge with the same results.

Or so I thought, until I noticed a little circle of dark red on the desk, and realized I'd cut my finger. Now that I'd discovered the wound, it hurt. I sucked at my finger as I dug in my bag for the box of bandages I'd taken to carrying around with me. It looked like there were only a couple left - I would have stocked up, if I'd known this job was going to be dangerous!

With a bandage wrapped tightly around my finger, and my confidence restored to its original pitiful level, I continued cutting, but at a much slower speed. It was fifteen minutes later when I'd finished three rows of stickers. I decided to stop cutting for now, and start sticking labels.

Evelyn came back an hour later to see how I was getting along. The labeling was going well, but I was still cutting stickers at a snail's pace, so I'd only finished labeling about twenty dividers.

She chose not to comment on my speed. 'Keep up the good work,' she said politely, and was about to walk away when she noticed the bandage.

'Did you cut yourself?' she asked, indicating my finger.

'Um, yeah,' I admitted, looking down at my bandaged finger sheepishly. 'I've never used one of these before.'

'Really? It's pretty easy. Here, let me demonstrate.' She took the knife and ruler and swiftly finished two rows of labels in ten seconds as I blinked in surprise.

'Just make sure your fingers are holding the ruler down, but not so close to the knife that you cut yourself.'

Easier said than done. I nodded anyway. 'Okay.'

She came back half an hour later to find me sucking on another wounded finger. 'Maybe we should find you something else to do.'

I nodded in agreement.

---

'Ernest here is going to teach you how to scan things. I'll leave some more files on your desk for you to scan when you've learned how to do it.'

'Okay,' I said, and Evelyn left.

Ernest was a well-built twenty-something year-old guy with a shaved head and a lip ring. I wondered why he was working in an office. I also wondered if he had some kind of nervous tic, because his eyes kept flicking back and forth between my eyes and the floor.

But he seemed friendly enough. 'Hey,' he said, grinning widely. His eyes did that twitchy thing again.

I smiled back uncertainly. 'Hey.'

He grinned even more widely. 'Well, let's get started, then. Hand me the file.'

I gave it to him, glad to get rid of the heavy weight. He took it, eyes flicking down and up once more, then placed it on top of the scanner.

'Now you'll notice,' he said, opening the binder, 'that a lot of these papers are stapled. Obviously, you'll need to take them out before you scan. I'll just demonstrate a couple of pages first. You probably want to take this back to your desk to get all the staples out before you start scanning it. So now press the Scanner button, then select paper size, and press this button, then this one, then press "OK". Now select the folder you want to scan to - this is one of Fiona's files, so pick the folder called "Fiona" - and put the paper in the feeder here. Then press "Start".' All the while, as he was explaining, his eyes kept looking sideways and downwards and back to the touch screen.

The scanner rapidly swallowed and spat out the papers. 'Just like that. When you're done with one file, press this button. Cool?'

'Um, yeah ... cool.' I hoped I could remember all that.

'Now you do it once for me, 'kay?'

'Okay.'

He stepped away from the scanner and I moved forward, taking another sheaf of loose papers. I put them in the feeder and stared down at the touch screen, my finger hovering uncertainly over it.

'Paper size is this button,' Ernest said, grabbing my hand and using my finger to poke the screen. 'Then press "OK". Folder selection is this one -' he poked my finger at the screen again '- and press "Start".' He pressed the button. The scanner ate the paper. I suddenly realized that at some point he had moved, and was now standing uncomfortably close. And he was still holding my hand. I hurriedly pulled away and retrieved the papers.

As I busied myself with placing the scanned papers back into the file, he leaned against the scanner, trying to look cool. 'So ... come here often?'

Had he really just asked that? 'Um ... this is my first day.'

'Hmm, yeah,' he said, nodding, but not really looking interested. 'You free Friday night?'

My hands stopped for a moment. So ... wait ... he didn't have a nervous tic, he'd been checking me out! Or at least staring at my boobs. I continued doing what I was doing at a faster pace, deciding to ignore him.

He was undeterred by my silence. 'Maybe dinner, a movie? Or, you know, I don't really care. Whatever you want to do. S'fine with me. I mean, wait, you don't have a boyfriend or anything, do you?'

I finally finished organizing the papers. I grabbed the file and said in the frostiest tone I could manage, 'As a matter of fact, I do,' before quickly walking back to my desk. I could feel his eyes on my back - or somewhere lower. It felt creepy.

Back at the safety of my desk, I closed my eyes and tried to mentally cleanse myself. It worked, but only a little. Maybe working would take my mind off of things. Now where was that stapler?

'Darlin', you forgot somethin',' said Ernest, affecting a bad Southern accent, suddenly appearing next to my desk. He held out the stapler with a smirk. I took it, my face burning.

'So you still want to go out Friday night?' he asked.

I looked at him incredulously. 'No. Uh, I'm busy.'

'Maybe some other time?'

I rolled my eyes, making no effort to hide it. 'Whatever.'

'Cool!' he cheered. 'How about -'

I cut him off. 'I kind of have to work now,' I said, gesturing to the files on my desk.

'Oh yeah, that. Well, you want to have lunch together? We can talk then.'

Edward and I had made lunch plans. Well, he would keep me company while I ate lunch. 'I'm meeting someone,' I said, glad to have an excuse.

'Who?' he pressed.

'My boyfriend.'

'Oh.' He looked slightly disappointed. 'Where are you going?'

Was this any of his business? Maybe if I told him he'd go away. 'All-American Sushi.'

'Oh,' he said again. 'Okay. Have fun, I guess.'

'Thanks,' I replied, in the same insincere tone.

He finally left. I picked up the red Swingline stapler and started removing staples from the papers. Annoyingly, the hinge was loose, so I had to hold the two parts together.

'Ouch!' I stapled my pinky by accident. I gingerly picked the staple out, and a drop of blood oozed from the wound. Ugh.

After cleaning up and using yet another bandage, I finished removing the staples very carefully with no more accidents. Now for scanning. I took the file to the scanner, hoping that Ernest would be somewhere else. Luckily, it seemed he was.

The file was really heavy. I finally set it on top of the scanner, only to turn around and find a trail of paper from my desk to the scanner. Wow. Even after losing all that paper, the file was heavy.

I picked up all the paper, giving myself a paper cut in the process, and went back to the scanner. Putting the paper in the feeder, I pressed what I hoped were the correct buttons and waited for it to scan.

It was only when I took the file back to my desk that I discovered millions of paper cuts running up and down my arms. I had no idea how they got there. At least they were minor; only a few of them were bleeding, and even then only slightly. Nothing requiring a bandage, thankfully, because I only had two left. At this rate, I was going to die of blood loss before the end of the week.

---

Evelyn showed up at my desk. 'It's lunchtime,' she informed me. 'There's a group of us going down to Kamikaze Burger. Do you want to come along?'

'No thanks, I'm meeting someone.'

'Oh, okay then. Have fun. Be back here at two-thirty.' She joined the group of people going out the door.

Finally, lunchtime. I called Edward.

He picked up. 'Yes?'

'Hi, Edward. It's lunchtime now.'

'All right. I'll be waiting outside your building.'

'See you in five.' I hung up.

Ernest was thankfully still nowhere to be seen as I exited the office and went down in the elevator. True to his word, Edward was waiting outside the glass doors.

He had a strange look on his face as I walked towards him. I made to hold his hand, but he stopped me.

'Are you bleeding?'

I held up my bandage-wrapped fingers. 'I was.'

He had stopped breathing, I noticed. 'I can still smell the blood.'

'Oh.' I clenched my wounded hand in a fist, trying to mask the smell a little bit. 'Can ... can we still go to lunch together?'

'As long as ... I don't get too near you ... I should be fine.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault, Bella.'

We started walking towards All-American Sushi, keeping at least six inches away from each other.

'I knew you were clumsy, Bella, but even I never imagined you could get so injured in an office.'

I huffed. 'Well, it's a dangerous environment! First I accidentally cut myself with a knife, then I stapled my pinky, then I got paper cuts all over my arms. And that's all before lunch! I shudder to imagine what else could possibly happen to me after lunch.'

'Scissors,' he suggested.

I paused. 'Well, maybe not scissors. Even I can't see how I could get hurt with those while using them. Running with scissors, maybe, but I think I'm more careful than that. I hope.'

'I thought you could cook?'

'I can cook. Charlie can't, so I make dinner and stuff. Why?'

'Don't you have to use knives to chop things and such while cooking?'

I frowned. That was a good point. I wondered why I never hurt myself cooking. 'Maybe it's because the knives are different. Or maybe I'm just weird like that.'

---

I sat down at my desk only to find that all the files were gone. The stapler was gone, too.

I called Evelyn at her desk.

'Hello?'

'Hi, Evelyn, it's Bella. I was just wondering why all the files on my desk are gone.'

'Oh, yeah. Well, you did a good job scanning the first file, but ... um ... it's just that there's blood on some of the papers, and ... yeah. Why don't you just stay at your desk for now?'

'Sorry about the blood. I accidentally stapled myself.'

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry,' I said again.

'It's okay. Just stay at your desk for now,' she said. 'Go on the internet or something. We'll find you something to do, don't worry.'

'Thanks.' Click.

I turned on the computer and spent a few minutes entering random search terms into Google to see what I would get. Compared to my computer at home, this one worked at light speed.

'Bella!' A sudden voice made me pause in typing 'cheese and bacon on toast' into the search box. Ernest was striding towards me, looking unhappy.

He slammed his fist angrily onto my desk, and I jumped. 'You didn't tell me your boyfriend was Edward Cullen!'

I blinked. 'What does that have to do with anything?'

He clenched his teeth in frustration. 'Of course it does! It's _Cullen_!'

'Wait - how did you know that, anyway?'

'Uh -'

'Were you _spying_ on us?' Now it was my turn to be angry. Only _I_ had righteous indignation on my side!

'It's a free country! I can go wherever I want to. I just happened to be craving some All-American Sushi.'

'Yeah. Right,' I said, disbelieving. 'I can't believe you were spying on us. What is wrong with you?'

'What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you_? The Cullens -'

I never got to find out what he was going to say about the Cullens, because Evelyn cut in. 'Ernest, stop harassing Bella. Get back to work.'

He glared at us both and stomped off.

Evelyn rolled her eyes and lowered her voice. 'The boss wanted to keep him out of trouble this summer. Ernest is his son,' she explained.

Well, that solved the mystery of why he was in an office. Also, wow, Edward was kind of famous around here. And he had a reputation too, apparently, but for what, I didn't know.

'Okay, Bella, I think I've got just the job for you,' Evelyn announced, interrupting my train of thought. 'Come with me.'

---

'How was your first day of work?' Charlie asked during dinner.

I twirled some spaghetti around my fork. 'It was pretty uneventful.'

'Did they give you any work to do?'

'They tried.' I showed him my battle scars.

He stifled a laugh. 'Are those ... paper cuts?'

'Stop laughing! Not all of them are paper cuts. I got this from a stapler, and this from a retractable knife,' I said indignantly, gesturing to my other wounds. 'Anyway, that was before lunch. After that Evelyn tried to give me some other jobs, but those didn't really ... pan out. In the end I just sat at my desk and surfed the internet.'

---

THE ANTI-CLIMACTIC END (I apologise.)

(A/N: I don't know what Ernest was about to say, either.)


End file.
